


Can’t Trust a Fox to Guard the Henhouse

by GalahadWilder



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: ANGST MOTHERFUCKER, Alya Salt, Angst, Chameleon Salt, F/M, Panic Attack, Panic Attacks, TW: Panic Attacks, ml salt, post-chameleon, tw: panic attack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-10-29 11:01:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17806778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadWilder/pseuds/GalahadWilder
Summary: Alya can’t wait to be Rena Rouge again, but when Ladybug gives the Fox Miraculous to someone else, Alya finds out that she somehow betrayed Ladybug’s civilian identity without knowing. How will she regain her hero’s trust? CAN she?





	1. Chapter 1

It had only been a few weeks since Hero’s Day and the disaster with Mayura, but Alya Cesaire was already chomping at the bit to get her Miraculous back and do some proper superheroing. She longed to feel the rush of wind in her hair, the rooftops beneath her feet, the flute in her mouth, the sweet scent of victory.

When Ladybug picked Queen Bee next, Alya was mildly put out. She may have proven herself, but Chloé was still Chloé, and she didn’t make the greatest addition to the team, skilled or no. Still, Alya supposed that there must’ve been a reason, and chose not to question it.

It was when Alya first saw Kitsune launching herself flute-first at the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man that she started seeing red. Ladybug had chosen to use the Fox Miraculous... but she’d GIVEN IT TO SOMEONE ELSE.

That was... unacceptable. What had happened? She needed to find out from the source.

One Akuma attack later, she managed to track down Ladybug before her transformation ran out. “What the hell?” Alya hissed. “You gave it to someone else?”

Ladybug pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Yeah, Alya, I did,” she said.

“Why?”

Ladybug swallowed. “Can we... look, can we not?”

Alya crossed her arms. “I think I have a right to know.”

“Fine.” Ladybug set her jaw. “I gave you the Fox Miraculous because I thought I could trust you,” she said. “You’ve made it evident that I can’t.”

Alya narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?” she said. “I was akumatized, that shouldn’t—“

“No, Alya, you weren’t,” Ladybug interrupted. “You didn’t betray Ladybug. You—“ She sniffled. “You betrayed m- _me_. And you... you did it without a _hint_ of Hawkmoth’s interference.”

Alya’s mouth dropped open in shock. There was too much to process at once—she _knew_ Ladybug? Ladybug had... she’d... oh god. _What have I done?_

“Ladybug, I’m... I’m sorry,” Alya choked out. “I didn’t...”

Ladybug shook her head. “I needed you to trust me, and you didn’t,” she said. “I almost got Akumatized because of you. Do you realize how dangerous that would be?”

Alya swallowed.

“I’m sorry,” Ladybug whispered. She wiped tears from her eyes. “You’re still my favorite reporter, and I’ll help you when I can, but...” She looked away. “Kitsune is the Fox now.”

They stared at each other, each too afraid to make the first move, to leave—then Ladybug rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Alya’s chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

And then she was gone.

Alya stayed frozen, staring at the wall, to overwhelmed by shock at what had just happened. She needed to make things right, she needed to

The butterfly touched her glasses

_She needed to know who Ladybug was... so she could apologize. Yes. And she needed to MAKE Ladybug trust her again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zoe-oneesama made some companion art on tumblr, check it out here! http://zoe-oneesama.tumblr.com/post/182048580784/the-friendship-i-was-hoping-for-i-loved-my


	2. Chapter 2

She hadn’t meant to say that. She hadn’t meant to say any of it.

Ladybug barely managed to fling herself onto a rooftop and stumble behind a chimney before her transformation gave out, and she collapsed against the chimney as Marinette. She tried to breathe, but the air wouldn’t come to her lungs—her chest was tight, frozen, empty, her trachea swelled shut with each attempted inhale having to force its way through a rattling cage of flesh. Her limbs shook, barely able to hold her upright; she felt weak, powerless. She hadn’t—that wasn’t—she was better than that, wasn’t she, yes Alya had hurt her but she was _Ladybug,_ dammit, and Adrien had told her not to make a big deal out of it because it didn’t _need_ to be a big deal, and now there was the purple butterfly and she couldn’t—she couldn’t—she...

Somewhere below her, she heard Alya wail.

Her stomach seized, and she turned to the side and spewed vomit all over the roof.

”Marinette?” Tikki whispered. “Are you okay?”

Marinette opened her mouth, tried to speak, but there was still no air, still nothing in her throat but bile. She reached out to her Kwami, trying to communicate something, _anything_ , she needed _help but nothing was coming, Chat had already left for the day and she had nothing left in her, nothing left to fight with—_

She couldn’t fight another Akuma. Not now. Not like this.

Not Alya.

There was a flash of black-violet light from below as the Akuma overtook Alya’s body, and tears came unbidden to Marinette’s eyes. She’d done this. She’d made another one.

”Marinette! You have to transform!” Tikki whisper-yelled. “She’ll find you!”

Marinette opened her mouth, tried to speak the phrase, to turn back to Ladybug, but the words wouldn’t come through her spasming throat.

”Marinette!”

”S-spots on,” she rasped, then Ladybug rolled herself away from the alley, flopped off the top of the building, and dropped into the equally secluded alley on the other side.

She couldn’t trust her yo-yo arm to catch her—not right now, not like this. It would slip from her fingers, and she’d fall all the same. And break, magical suit or no. And Tikki hadn’t refueled so she only had seconds left in her transformation.

Instead, she slashed downward with the yo-yo, cutting open the top of the dumpster below, yanking just enough of it away to make room for her body. Just enough space for the garbage to cushion her fall.

As Alya raced past overhead, she crawled deeper under the remains of the dumpster’s lid, dragging herself out of sight.

She yanked out her compact and sent a message to Chat: _new akuma need u,_ barely managing to hit send before Tikki collapsed out of her earrings and she was just Marinette again.

She pulled her knees into her chest, sank into the garbage, and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: I don’t hold Marinette at fault for any of what happened in Chapter 1, and in fact I believe that she’s treating Alya far better than Alya has any right to expect. While Marinette may be blaming herself for what’s happening, that is because she is A) a child and B) in the middle of a panic attack. Marinette’s views as to her culpability do not reflect my own.


	3. Chapter 3

Chat Noir was halfway between two buildings when his baton chirped a text tone. He almost missed the landing in surprise—only one person had this number, and he’d just seen her not two minutes ago (and she’d only had those two minutes left). He rolled to a halt on top of the roof, flicking out the screen of his baton.

 _New Akuma need u_ , was all her text message said.

Chat’s eyes widened. Two Akuma in one hour wasn’t unprecedented, sure, but it hadn’t happened since Antibug; usually Hawkmoth went a day or two between new possessions, or else an Akuma usually made most Parisians more careful with their emotions for a few hours, he was never quite sure which. But his Lady had been about to detransform when he left her, which meant there was a good chance she was in grave danger.

He raised the baton to his ear to call her, but when the call rang straight through—

She wasn’t transformed, and she had an Akuma RIGHT ON HER.

There was no time to think, no time to plan, no time to anything. He dashed to the edge of the building, planted his baton in the ground, and vaulted over the street, charging heedlessly towards his partner.

* * *

He found the Akuma first. It was clearly Alya—but the colors of her face and hair were completely reversed. She was dressed in a white jumpsuit and cloak with a black clerical collar, and overall she looked like a sci-fi updated photonegative of a medieval priest.

She dashed between people, her cloak flowing in the air behind her, smashing her right palm into their foreheads. The eyes of every person she’d touched were glowing, each of them curled up or lying down, rocking themselves or simply weeping. Every one was mumbling unintelligible sentences, overlapping so even his enhanced ears couldn’t separate out the words, but he could tell every one of them was saying something different.

The purple mask flared over her face, and Alya’s head snapped toward him, meeting his eyes with horrifying black sclera and electric white irises. Black tears streaked down her cheeks. “Chat Noir,” she said, her voice utterly lacking any sort of inflection. The sound was disturbing; even Lady WiFi had still had the explosive, electric drive behind her actions. This Alya was wrong in so many ways.

Chat bent his knees, keeping on his toes in case of a ranged attack. “So a priest walks into a busy Paris street...” he said with a smirk. “Who are you supposed to be?”

”I can’t find Ladybug,” Alya said, ignoring him completely. “I need to confess her. Doesn’t she know that?”

”Confess to her?” Chat said, tilting his head in confusion. “What would you be confessing?”

Alya shook her head. “Not confess _to_ her,” she said. “Confess her.” Her colors suddenly flashed into reverse, burning her civilian color pattern into his eyes, and then she was standing on the roof next to him.

He shrieked and leaped backward, flipping his staff to point at her, ward her off.

She didn’t even step toward him. “I can confess you too, if you’d like,” she said, holding up her right hand. “Tell me who has wronged you, and I can make it right.”

Chat smiled. “I can handle my own problems, thank you.”

Another black oily tear flowed from Alya’s eye onto her bright blue skin. “Can you?” she said, her voice suddenly and inexplicably sad. “I can see your pain, Chat Noir. I just want to help.” She stepped forward, hand out towards his forehead.

Chat’s smile shifted to a growl, and he shuffled backward, keeping to his fencing stance so as not to turn his back on her. He _hated_ empaths; made him feel naked. “Don’t want your help.” He wondered what that said about him, that the only people who could ever get close enough to see him were people who were trying to kill him.

She flashed again, but this time he was ready—he struck backward, satisfied at the feeling of his baton striking her solar plexus, her sharp grunt as he knocked her backward. He leaped forward, into space, letting gravity carry him to the street.

He hit rolling, hit running. Trick with teleporters: stay on the move.

”I am the Confessor!” he heard her shout after him. “Tell Ladybug I’m going to fix this!”

He kept his head down and kept running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confessor was suggested by Ladyscribworld on Tumblr. https://ladyscribeworld.tumblr.com/post/184335937279/im-sorry-if-i-seem-impatient-or-pushy-but-so-you


End file.
